Closed Off
by foreternityblue
Summary: Ever since his mother's death, Kurt Hummel hasn't been able to sleep at night and shut the rest of the world out, just trying to forget everything. Yet, when a mysterious boy with hazel eyes moves into town everything becomes harder to avoid. Klaine AU
1. The New Kid

**Title:** Closed Off (1/?)  
><strong>Author:<strong> foreternityblue  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13 (rating will go up, most likely)  
><strong>Previous Chapter:<strong> -  
><strong>Next Chapter:<strong> N/A  
><strong>Chapter One:<strong> -  
><strong>Chapter Word Count:<strong> 3, 900  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Ever since his mother's death, Kurt Hummel hasn't been able to sleep at night and shut the rest of the world out, just trying to forget everything. Yet, when a mysterious boy with hazel eyes moves into town everything becomes harder to avoid. Klaine AU

**Author's Note:** I really should stop starting new stories, should I? I can't really help myself, though, since I can't find the inspiration to write for any of my _other_ stories right now, and that fact is driving me absolutely insane. I'll try to finish this particular story, though, but we'll see what happens... I'll finish the other ones eventually. I think.

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><p>It all started when Kurt Hummel was only eight years old, a child who was supposed to be innocent to the pains of the real world, who was supposed to be constantly led away from the darkness that lingered, waiting to taint his purity when he was older. Of course, the way he remembers it when he actually lies there and attempt to remind himself how he got there, he tries to make himself believe that this all stemmed later in his life, at a more appropriate age, but he knew that it really didn't.<p>

Kurt Elizabeth Hummel's life was turned upside down the day that his mother died in a car accident. He could remember that day almost perfectly, though he constantly tried not to for the sake of his sanity.

He could remember lying in bed late at night, staring at the ceiling and waiting for his mother to come home, because she had left shortly after dinner to go get him something for school—it always took him a few moments to remember what, exactly, she had been going to get him, but glitter would pop into his head quickly enough—or maybe just for his own personal enjoyment. Either one was entirely plausible.

It had been long after midnight, but still before four in the morning, when he heard a car pull up in front of their house, and he had jumped off of his bed quickly, running over to his window as quickly as his short legs could take him. He had scrambled up onto the windowsill and opened the curtain, hoping to see his mother walking up the front walk to the door—only to see a policeman there, instead. Kurt's young mind couldn't comprehend what, exactly, was going on, and he just walked back to his bed slowly, crawling back under the covers and continuing to stare at the ceiling sadly.

Faintly, he heard the doorbell ring, and his first impulse was to get out of bed to answer the door, but he stayed where he was as the familiar ring sounded through the house once… twice… four times. Then, and only then, he heard his father grumbling sleepily and dragging his feet past his son's room. For a few long moments, Kurt laid there in his silent room, before turning onto his side and glancing at his clock. 3:37 was the time that it showed to him, and he watched the clock, hearing voices talking downstairs.

Roughly twenty seconds after the seven became an eight, Kurt started to hear his father, the strong, proud Burt Hummel, start crying, and a shiver ran up his spine and he sat up abruptly, his ears twitching a little bit, and he listened harder, trying to figure out what was going on. His father never cried. Actually, adults weren't _supposed_ to cry, as far as he was concerned, and he heard more muffled words, but he couldn't really make out much.

After a few minutes, Kurt heard the door closing and his father coming back up the stairs, and he fell back onto the bed, turning away from the door and closing his eyes, trying to make it seem like he had been sleeping the entire time. His father's footsteps got louder and heavier as he neared the young boy's room and Kurt reminded himself mentally to start taking deeper breaths until his father passed… but the footfalls stopped outside of his door, instead, and his door was pushed open slowly.

Burt walked towards his son's bed, and sat down on the edge of it, reaching over and running his finger's through Kurt's hair slowly… the small boy figured that the motion could be perceived as enough to wake him, so he turned over and blinked his eyes open, trying to seem tired even though he honestly didn't _feel_ tired. He had yawned, trying to keep up the charade, and rubbed his eyes, glancing up at his father. His chest tightened when he saw tear tracks running down the man's face, shinning in the moonlight, "… Daddy?" he asked, his voice small and thick.

His father swallowed slowly, and took a deep breath, and his mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he were a fish out of water. "Kurt… son…" he whispered brokenly, and a small frown pulled at the boy's face—Kurt could remember what he thought at that moment: _Mommy says that frowning his bad for you, but…_—and he scooted towards his dad. "… Your mother… passed away, earlier, in a car accident… when she was on her way home."

"… What?" he asked, his voice even smaller and quieter than before, though it was definitely clearer. It took a few long moments for everything to process in his mind. For him to be able to think about the words _mother_ and _passed away_ in the same sentence… and slowly, but surely, tears formed in his eyes as he understood what, exactly, had happened, even though he was only eight. At that point, he crawled into his father's lap and cried—sobbed, really—clinging to his oversized shirt as they simply cried together, trying to hold on to reality while at the same time just trying to pretend that the pain wasn't real… well, at least Kurt was doing that.

The next day he didn't go to school, and instead slept in his bed, the exhaustion finally washing over him around five in the morning, when his father laid his back down and kissed his forehead. He could hear the truck starting up and he faintly knew that Burt was going to the hospital.

The next night, he didn't sleep again. The denial set in and he laid there, waiting for his mother to come home even though he _knew_ somewhere in his mind that she wasn't coming back no matter how long he stayed up, waiting for her. He didn't sleep for two weeks straight, not even after they buried his mother's casket, and after a while he actually started trying to sleep, but his small body had become accustomed to not falling asleep until close to five, and he couldn't until then.

Every night, he laid in bed quietly as his father slept a few rooms over, and every night he fell asleep around five, only to be woken up at seven because he had to go to school. Soon enough, he no longer even felt tired from the two hours of sleep that he got, and his body got used to it. Of course, his father never figured it out, since he was a deep sleeper, sleeping even when Kurt crept down the stairs, trying to avoid making any noise even though he still did, to make himself a small snack.

Years passed and through the transition from elementary school to middle school, from being a child to being a teenager, from middle school to high school, Kurt's sleeping patterns didn't change, despite the fact that he came more aware that the amount of sleep he was getting was _extremely_ unhealthy for him. Really, though, he didn't actually care, because he could still function and go to school and get good grades.

Most of the time, when he got home from school as he grew, he took a nap on his bed to regain energy even though something in his mind told him that he really should just push through everything and do his homework so he could actually start sleeping like a normal person, but that never happened. By eighth grade he had fallen into a pattern: go to school, come home, fall asleep, get up, make dinner, eat dinner with his father, watch TV and/or read a magazine, do homework, and stay up all night. It was like someone else was controlling all of his movements and actions.

Yet, Kurt really couldn't bring himself to care.

By the time he was a teenager, he had even started sneaking out of the house after his father had fallen asleep, only sometimes, just to be able to have something to do other than lie around his room checking over his homework again and again and designing idly even though he had basically no inspiration. Sometimes he'd just wander around silently and other times he would go to the park and swing a little bit, getting lost in the back and forth motion until he became acutely aware that he was getting tired.

Nothing ever changed, and he was okay with that.

Halfway through his junior year, though, everything _did_ start to change. It was almost unnoticeable at first, but there was a definite shift in his life.

A new family had moved into town, and everyone was talking about them, chattering and gossiping—almost everyone in Lima were rather big gossips, and news traveled _fast_. The fact that a new family was moving in was pretty significant, since Lima was that kind of town where families had lived there for generations and getting new people was rather weird. At the same time, only a year before, another new family had moved in: the Evans. Sam Evans was kind of one of Kurt's friends, though they weren't exactly close—actually, Sam was closer friends to Kurt's stepbrother, Finn Hudson, but that was an entirely different story all together. The fact that another family was moving in so soon was a slight shock to everyone.

After a few days of everyone talking about the new family moving in, Kurt seemed outwardly unaffected by the news, even though all of his friends were talking about it almost endlessly. Really, he was mainly bored by all of it, because he just didn't care. It was just another family, to him, and it wasn't like they would change anything about his life. Sure he was a _little_ curious, but everyone was. It wasn't like he was about to start gossiping about them like a lot of other people.

Yes, Kurt was, admittedly, just as much as a gossip as everyone else in his small town was, but it was getting a little bit annoying, the amount of people still talking about the same thing. It was like nothing else at least slightly interesting was happening.

Well, then again, it was Lima.

It was a week after the news had spread when Kurt had woken up after his standard two hours of sleep after he had sat in the park, even though it was January and absolutely _freezing_ outside, and slid out of bed as he normally did, shivering at the cold that touched his pale skin almost immediately, even though he was wearing long sleeved pajamas. It probably had something to do that they were also silk, but whatever.

He went through his normal morning routine that consisted of taking a shower and getting dressed (that day, he chose to wear a pair of skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and his tight white jacket that people sometimes teasingly told him looked like a bondage jacket paired with his favorite black boots) and doing his hair as carefully as possible. Kurt had walked down the stairs quietly after stepping into his stepbrother's room to wake him up, due to the minor fact that Finn had an awful habit of sleeping in far too much, to find his stepmother Carole standing at the stove in her work clothes.

"Morning," he greeted her, walking over to the refrigerator and pulling the door open after grabbing a glass from the table.

Carole turned to him and absolutely beamed her standard, motherly hello smile, "Good morning, Kurt," she said cheerfully, turning back to the pan and mixing the scrambled eggs that were almost done cooking. "Did you sleep well last night?"

Kurt kind of found it humorous that she always asked him that when he came down stairs and got his usual glass of milk. He always had half the mind to say that he actually hadn't slept well the night before—not out of spite, of course not, he _loved_ Carole because she was so, so sweet to him and everything, but because he did trust her. However, the simple lie of, "Yes, I did," slipped out of his lips far too easily for him to say much else.

The kind woman laughed softly and nodded, continuing to talk about something (Kurt was honestly only half listening, but still realized that she was talking about work) as she poured the pan of eggs out onto a plate that already had two pieces of toast on it, and Kurt reached for it easily, thanking her with a quick peck on the cheek as she continued to talk, only pausing to smile softly at Kurt once again.

He ate his breakfast with ease, and was halfway through when Finn came thundering down the stairs and ducked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily and yawning unnecessarily loudly, causing Kurt to yawn a little bit. He grumbled a good morning, and Kurt returned it absentmindedly, continuing to eat his breakfast as the taller teenager hugged his mother and accepted his plate of food. Carole kissed the tops of both of their heads, bidding them a goodbye before grabbing her purse and leaving for work, letting her sons finish eating, reminding them both to have a good day.

So, Finn and Kurt ate in a mostly comfortable silence as they always did, since they really didn't have much to talk about seeing as they had practically nothing in common (Finn was a jock while Kurt… well, Kurt liked fashion and such things), before Kurt finished his plate and rinsed it carefully. He leaned down to set it in the dishwasher, hearing Finn stand up as well, since the guy seriously ate two times faster than Kurt did, doing similar movements that Kurt himself did, though he was a bit slower since he was still basically half asleep. They were off to school in no time after pulling on their thick winter coats, talking idly about basically nothing as Kurt drove them down the road and to their high school.

They bid each other good bye when Kurt parked in his usual parking spot, Finn going off to the other jocks of McKinley High School while Kurt joined his two best friends, Mercedes and Rachel, by Rachel's car and they walked slowly into school together. Kurt was mostly silent, listening to the two girls talk and inputting his personal thoughts every so often.

A while ago, the girls had asked why he was always so tired by the end of the school day, and Kurt had simply answered them "I didn't sleep well last night" and put more of an effort to seem energetic until he was in his car away from their curious stares. Finn was never curious enough to ask, and Kurt was glad for that. His father never figured it out, and neither did his stepmother. They never really knew much about Kurt, actually, apart from the most basic things that everyone knew about him.

Ever since that fateful night, Kurt hadn't let anyone in. Such a thing could be perceived as even more unhealthy than his extreme lack of sleep, but he always told himself that no one would understand, not even his father. Even Kurt himself hadn't understood his innermost thoughts and feelings because he stayed away from them, not wanting to know, even though that wouldn't make sense to any normal person. It made sense in his mind, though, to just let his mask of sarcasm and wit hide everything else from absolutely everyone, including himself.

"So, I hear we're getting a new student today," Rachel said excitedly, her brown eyes lighting up, apparently deciding to change the subject from dresses for the winter formal coming up to the sole thing practically everyone was talking about. Kurt had to force himself not to roll his eyes in exasperation, since both of his friends would have seen him clearly from his usual walking position between the two of them.

"Oh, girl, I know!" Mercedes said in return, nodding, "There hasn't been _nearly_ enough information to figure out much, though. Apparently the family is keeping practically everything about themselves under wraps until their kid gets introduced formally in school. Even their new neighbors don't know much apart from the fact that there is only one kid around our age."

Rachel sighed, flipping her long brown hair briefly, "I know. I mean, when Sam's family moved here, we knew so much more about them before Sam was even introduced in school. I understand that the Evans moved here near the end of summer to we were all bound to know quite a bit about them but it's not like it's much to ask to at least know the new family's last name. Well, then again, we could always deduce from the fact that they moved into the biggest house in Lima that they're rather wealthy, but still."

In return, Mercedes shrugged a little bit, turning her head away for a moment. Kurt could tell that she was rolling her eyes because Rachel said so much in basically one breath, but he didn't mention anything about it. "Well, at least we'll know more about him by the end of today. Anyways, this is my hall, later guys," Mercedes said, waving, giving Kurt a quick, platonic kiss on the cheek, and walking down the hall that they were passing.

Rachel looked towards Kurt, her eyes bright and a grin on her face after bidding the other girl goodbye. She was looking at him expectantly, as if she were absolutely positive that he would have some input as to what the new family was like, and at that point Kurt really _did_ roll his eyes.

He loved Rachel, he really did, but _honestly_. "You know I cannot care less about the new family. There wasn't this much excitement about the Evans when they moved here, and it's not like the new family is really that great, Rachel, it's not like they're famous. Unless they have a son who is extremely attractive, I'll continue not to care until it actually becomes directly important to my family or myself. Just calm down and this is your hall, I'll see you later darling." Kurt stated it all as calmly as possible, though he had basically told Rachel the same thing several different times (minus the goodbye), and he leaned over, pecking her on the cheek before continuing on his way down the hall, ignoring her quiet whining about his behavior as she turned down her hall.

Kurt turned into the hallway that his own locker was in soon after that, and spun the combination quickly, opening said locker and pulling his bag over his head to start organizing himself for the day. He took a quick glance at the clock when he was done and reached for his things for first period even though he had about ten or so minutes before he had to actually be in his classroom. It wasn't like there was anything for him to do besides stand there, anyways, since all of his friends had lockers rather far away from him. Plus, standing around idly would probably result in some annoying jock that wasn't as nice as Finn, Sam, Puck, or Mike passing by and bothering him by either taunting him, pushing him, or throwing something at him.

He still had a good four or so minutes to spare by the time he found himself getting ready for pre-calculus (Kurt always cursed the fact that he was stuck with the mundane class first thing in the morning) as other people filed in, talking to each other and laughing loudly. He tried to block out the intrusive noise and instead opted to check back over his homework, due to the fact that he sat alone at his table and he didn't share this class with any of his friends, regrettably. As always, he was eager for this class to end so he could get to English with Mercedes, because that class was _clearly_ always more enjoyable.

The bell rung for class to start, and Kurt closed his notebook and straightened up in his chair, waiting for the teacher to start class. Mrs. Reynolds stood up as she normally did and smiled warmly at the class, saying good morning as everyone chimed it in return, as they normally did.

The door opened again after good mornings were said, and practically everyone looked around wildly, trying to figure out who was missing and who was there. Despite the kind smile and warm eyes, Mrs. Reynolds did _not_ take well to students being late for her class, and whoever was late was going to get serious punishment.

Actually, most of the time, when a student was late for her class, they just opted not to show up, not wanting to face the wrath of the woman.

The door swung open, and everyone _stared_ at the stranger that was standing there, wearing a loose pair of jeans that weren't _too_ loose, but weren't too tight, a black and white stripped shirt and a red cardigan with a messenger bag hanging on one shoulder and a rather perfect smile on his face paired with somehow pretty brown (from where Kurt was sitting) eyes and curly black hair. Murmurs started floating through the class in no time, and Mrs. Reynolds' smile widened a little bit as she walked over to the teenager and ushered him inside of the classroom quickly.

Kurt couldn't stop staring at the teenager, even with people talking in low voices all around him, and suddenly he was once against interested in the new family. Maybe it was a little shallow—or a lot shallow—but _damn_, he didn't actually suspect the kid to be a guy and look like that…

But, as he continued staring, there was just something about him. It was something miniscule, something that you could only see if you were _really_ staring at him like Kurt was. There was something in his smile and his eyes, that Kurt could see weren't _just_ brown, but he couldn't figure too much out since he was still too far away, that seemed almost… distant, and sad. Like he was consciously trying to hide something, but wasn't exactly doing a perfectly thorough job at it. Maybe it was just the minor sleep deprivation, but it looked like something was there.

In first period pre-calculus a new student was introduced to the entire class. A new student who had stood at the front of the room, smiling politely at the sea of curious faces, his hair gelled at a side part that complimented his strong jaw while at the same time making him look practically like a 20s movie star, not looking nervous in the least. He actually appeared comfortable and natural, apart from the slight sadness that Kurt was _sure_ that was in his expression, even if only slightly, as if he belonged there for some insane reason.

He introduced himself as Blaine Anderson.

Kurt committed the name to memory.


	2. Snowfall

**Title:** Closed Off (2/?)  
><strong>Author:<strong> foreternityblue  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13 (rating will go up, most likely)  
><strong>Chapter Word Count:<strong> 3, 800  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Ever since his mother's death, Kurt Hummel hasn't been able to sleep at night and shut the rest of the world out, just trying to forget everything. Yet, when a mysterious boy with hazel eyes moves into town everything becomes harder to avoid. Klaine AU

**Author's Note:** Here we go, chapter two. As an extra note, much like how I got the idea for Just Listen from my constant need for music in my ears, I got the idea for this particular story from my own insomniac habits.

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><p>Sometimes, Kurt had the rather random urge to go into the basement, dig through the many boxes that were down there, and attempt to find a box full of his mom's photos, since his father had stored all of them down there except for one, which Burt kept hidden as well. When he had the random urge to do such a thing, he then had to sit there and wonder for a while if, just maybe, his father thought that he was fragile like a porcelain doll (many people actually thought that for some reason), and that was why he hid all of the pictures from his son. Why else would he do that? It wasn't like he was trying to keep his late wife a secret, since Kurt could remember a few things about her. Then, when he would think about that, he would think about actually asking his father why all the pictures were stored away…<p>

He never did ask why, though. The subject of his mother was a sore one; one that he and Burt never spoke about because it was too painful, too heavy, too… everything negative.

Even when Kurt would stand up and head towards the basement, telling himself that going to look for the pictures wouldn't hurt, he ended up standing at the top of the stairs, one hand holding onto the doorknob as he just stared down the stairs that led into the dark area, his heart pounding uncontrollably in his chest. Then and only then, during those brief moments, did Kurt let himself realize that he was afraid. So, so afraid. Of what, he wasn't entirely sure, because he always closed the door and continued on with his day like nothing happened.

Why was he thinking about that near the end of pre-calculus? He wasn't entirely sure. Maybe it was that sharp, heavy feeling in his heart the moment he turned towards the new kid, Blaine, when he spoke, and found himself staring into eyes that had so many colors that it took Kurt a few moments to put a name to the color of his eyes. They were hazel. An undeniably pretty mixture of colors that made hazel, that caused Kurt to just _stare_ at the other teenager for a few moments, getting distracted.

For a moment, only a moment, Kurt pictured his mother completely in his mind for the first time in a long time. Of course he had thought about his mother before, but it was always just her hair and her body, without a defined face… yet, he suddenly pictured her; her and her long, wavy brown hair and her kind, small, absolutely loving smile and her hazel eyes that had always looked so warm when she was with him or his father.

Kurt had to blink a few times, before he realized that Blaine was staring at him with a somewhat concerned expression on his face, his head tilted to the side slightly, his lips moving as Kurt slowly came back to reality despite the fact that he had only pictured his mother for a second, if that. It took him another few moments to realize that Blaine was talking to him, and he blinked hard once, and the noise around him from his peers hit him suddenly.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, concern lacing his voice, and Kurt nodded slowly, clearing his throat a little bit. The polite smile appeared on Blaine's face again, and his shoulders relaxed from their somewhat stiff positioning. Or, at least, Kurt thought he saw them relaxing. "Oh, good. Well, I'm Blaine. I figured I'd reintroduce myself even though I told you who I was about forty minutes ago," he laughed a little bit, and extended a hand for Kurt to shake.

It occurred to Kurt that Blaine had a _really_ nice laugh, and a slight smile appeared on his face as he slowly reached out and took Blaine's hand in his own, shaking it briefly, "Kurt. Hummel. Kurt Hummel." He almost hit himself for sounding so ridiculous when trying to introduce himself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Blaine replied smoothly, as if unaffected by the brunet's moment of stupidity, squeezing Kurt's hand slightly before letting it go slowly, his hand lingering for a split second too long, leaving a slight tingling sensation in Kurt's palm that almost tickled. Well, alright, it did tickle, but Kurt felt back the urge to itch his palms.

"The pleasure is all yours," Kurt drawled, before just letting himself smile a little bit, pushing away the pained feeling in his chest quickly. Blaine seemed to laugh again at what he said, and Kurt forced himself to relax. He still had another five minutes left of class, anyways. "So, you're the new kid?" he asked, his eyebrow raising slightly even though he was more than aware that the teenager sitting next to him was _definitely_ the new kid to Lima—unless he had basically literally been living under a rock for the past seventeen or so years.

With an almost solemn nod, Blaine's smile fell back to a more minute, polite one, "Well, yes, I am the apparent new kid around here considering the fact that I was both introduced as such and I don't believe you've ever seen me before," he confirmed, leaning against the back of his chair and staring over at Kurt. "Though I would very much prefer it if you referred to me as Blaine rather than New Kid, just as a special side note." He winked playfully, and Kurt couldn't resist rolling his eyes at the joke. Well, the joke and the fact that he seemed to have an automatic way of speaking politely. Kurt wasn't very used to people speaking like that.

Really, Kurt had half the mind to continue referring to Blaine as the New Kid, just because he was asked not to, but he figured that'd just be weird and a rather bully-like move to pull. "Well, alright, Blaine." Blaine was a nice name… Kurt had never met anyone else with the name Blaine before. "So, tell me about yourself," he said lightly, just so that they wouldn't sit in an awkward silence, turning towards his pile of stuff to start getting ready to leave for English.

A hum sounded through the air and there was the shuffling of things next to Kurt, and he figured Blaine was getting ready to go to his next class, as well. "Well, I'm Blaine Anderson, as you know. I'm sixteen but I'm going to turn seventeen very soon." So Blaine was probably a month or so older than Kurt… "I enjoy playing the guitar, preferably acoustic, and piano, and I also enjoy singing more so than not," so he was musical… that was interesting, "I have a mother and a father, of course, and an older brother named Richard whose in college right now and…" There was a pause, and Kurt glanced over at Blaine, who was turned away from him and putting his stuff into his bag, so Kurt ignored the pause and leaned back, waiting for him to continue speaking. "I have a pet bird," Blaine seemed to finish, sitting up and smiling over at Kurt, "he's a warbler named Pavarotti."

"A warbler named Pavarotti?" Kurt echoed, nodding a little bit, honestly interested since warblers were beautiful birds from what he knew. They also sang beautifully, though Kurt wasn't entirely sure why he knew that. He wasn't a bird enthusiast or anything like that… Suddenly, it wasn't very hard to picture Blaine with a warbler. "That's a beautiful name."

"For a beautiful bird," Blaine replied easily, as if he had read Kurt's mind. Or maybe he was just fond of his bird.

The bell rung, and they both stood up at the same time. Kurt scooted away from his chair and moved to just walk away like most other people in the room, though he stopped when he noticed that Blaine was pushing his chair in politely and he blinked a few times, before moving to push his chair in as well. Sure, teachers always told their students to push their chairs in when they left, but it wasn't like anyone ever actually _listened_. But, hey, Kurt figured there was no harm in pushing in his chair as well.

Blaine pulled his bag onto his shoulder and Kurt pulled his books into his arms, and they coincidentally started walking over to the door together, though Blaine stopped so that Kurt could get through without them awkwardly colliding into each other. Kurt almost stopped as well, however it was because he had abruptly noticed that Blaine was a couple of inches shorter than him. "I'll see you tomorrow," Blaine said, and Kurt turned when he was in the hall, only to see the shorter teen making his way through the now crowded hall.

For a moment, Kurt wondered if Blaine noticed his peers turning and staring at him from the side of the hallways, or if the guy was just blissfully unaware of it all, simply making his way to his next class or to his locker because he just seemed like the time to not notice that kind of stuff. Or, maybe he was the type to be sensitive to stares and whispers from people on the sidelines… with a small shrug to himself, Kurt pushed the thought away and made his way back to his locker quickly to switch out his pre-calculus stuff for his English III stuff.

—

In English class, Kurt let it slip that Blaine was in his pre-cal class and Mercedes practically attacked him with questions, even though he really didn't know the answers to most of the things that she asked. He only told her what he knew and insisted that was it, even though the girl was a little bit exasperated by how little Kurt had figured out. It wasn't like he was psychic or anything, and he had to remind her of that constantly.

Really, what did she expect? Did she expect Kurt to be nosey and ask Blaine a million different personal questions in a five-minute time span and for Blaine to answer them even though he didn't know Kurt apart from his first and last name?

Well, apparently. Regardless, the day passed by rather quickly after that, and Kurt was just as tired as he normally was by the end of the school day as he bid his friends goodbye and made his way back towards his car. Finn was going over to Noah Puckerman's house last Kurt had heard, so he climbed into his car alone, turning the heat up to ward off the cold that had settled over him. The drive was brief, and the heat blasting into his face made him feel drowsier than usual, and when he stumbled out into the cold, it didn't even wake him up more like it usually did.

He wanted dragged his feet over the dry pavement but he didn't because he was wearing his favorite boots, though the dry pavement caused him to remember briefly that someone had mentioned that it may or may not snow later that night (there were always those rumors, though, and no one really paid attention to them after the first few weeks of winter), and pushed his key into the keyhole, fumbling and just flat out missing a few times, until he finally managed to get the door open before he got too irritated with how cold it was. Kurt liked spring and autumn, because they weren't freezing cold or scorching hot _and_ because they didn't ruin his skin unlike winter and summer. So, yes, he was a little crankier than usual.

When the door finally swung open, Kurt stepped inside hurriedly, not giving the outside world another glance before shutting the door behind him and locking it, already in the midst of unzipping his winter jacket. He hung it on the coat rack and made his way up the stairs slowly, remembering not to drag his shoes across the carpet, either, both for the sake of his boots and his sanity since either he or his stepmother would end up cleaning the carpet if anything happened to it.

He walked into his room and closed the door after him, dumping his bag next to his bed, moving to unbuckle and unzip his white jacket carefully, his movements slow like Finn's were in the morning due to his tiredness. Mentally, he cursed his growing body, since he knew well that teenage bodies used up more energy because they were growing, even though he really wasn't growing anymore. Regardless, he hung up his jacket in his closet and unzipped his boots, wondering for a brief moment if it would even be worth it to change… and he ended up deciding that he may as well. Sleeping in skinny jeans wasn't comfortable and he knew that, so he slid them off and pulling his pajama pants from the night before on, leaving the t-shirt as it was, and just climbed into bed with a yawn.

As per usual, despite the fact that he was extremely tired, sleep didn't come particularly easy for him, and he was left lying there for at least half an hour just thinking, before he dozed off, soon falling into a familiar, deep, dreamless sleep.

—

Kurt hadn't legitimately dreamt while sleeping in a long time. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure why, though he had a feeling it correlated with his screwed up sleeping schedule, and he didn't really care much, either. Dreams were just dreams, to him, and it wasn't really like they meant much. So, when he woke up after a calm, dreamless sleep, feeling quite a bit more energetic than before, he just sat up and stretched, faintly aware of noises coming from downstairs that alerted him of Carole's presence in the house.

He crawled out of bed and changed back into his skinny jeans before opening the door to his room and walking down the stairs, strolling into the kitchen casually and pulling a smile to his face when his stepmother turned around and grinned at him. As always, he helped her with dinner and Finn came home, clearly pumped (probably from a game of Call of Duty or something). Burt came home soon after, and gave his wife the usual peck on the cheek, patting Kurt and Finn on the shoulders before taking his place at the table.

Dinner passed without fault, and Kurt decided that he may as well go up to his room and work on his homework, not exactly in the mood to sit around and watch that Burt and Finn would end up watching. Which was, of course, a sport. As much as Kurt tried, he really just wasn't into that kind of stuff, so he climbed the stairs to his room and started doing his homework around eight.

He finished around eleven, and checked back over his work for pre-calculus once, and when he checked the time again, it was only 11:14, so he ended up pulling his laptop onto his bed and checking his e-mail and such things, though he knew well enough that there wasn't going to be anything noteworthy in his inbox. Afterwards, he just messed around on his computer absentmindedly until he heard his father telling him to go to bed before retiring to his room as well, and Kurt waited another good thirty minutes after the house went completely silent to slide out of his bed.

For some reason, he really wanted to go outside despite the _extreme_ dislike for how cold it was.

It was 12:38 by the time Kurt had switched his t-shirt for a turtleneck, zipped and buckled his jacket back up and pulled on his boots once again, and he crept down the stairs as quietly as possible. Before Carole and Finn moved in, he could have walked a little less carefully, but Carole was a lighter sleeper than Finn and Burt, so he had to be more cautious about where he stepped. Regardless, he made it to the door and zipped his winter coat on securely, wrapped a scarf around his neck and slid a pair of gloves on without getting caught, and eased open the door, stepping out into the cold winter night.

The cold was absolutely biting and Kurt wondered if he should just go back inside before he got frostbite… but he decided to just stay out because he went through quite a bit of effort to get changed to go outside. So, he shut the door carefully and started walking down the front steps and the walkway, pushing his hands into his pockets after pulling up the scarf so that it was over his mouth.

He walked down the familiar sidewalk that he had known all of his life, breathing softly and walking as quietly as he possibly could in his boots, not wanting there to be any loud intrusive sounds echoing through his practically empty neighborhood. A few years back, he accidentally scared one of his neighbors and, well… he had to run from the scene quickly so he wouldn't get caught, to put it simply. It wasn't like he thought that everyone was asleep around 12:45 in the morning, because there were bound to be some people up, but as long as he stayed quiet no one would bother him.

That was just the way that he liked it.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he got lost in thought rather quickly, trying to keep his thoughts centered around school and home and his family and such things, even though it was a little bit difficult as it always was. When Kurt didn't really pay attention to what he was thinking, he ended up thinking about things he would have preferred to keep well buried in the far back of his mind. Like… well, since Kurt was consciously trying to stay away from those thoughts…

After a few minutes, Kurt blinked and realized that he had automatically walked over to the rather large neighborhood park… he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going at all. Honestly, he knew Lima like the back of his hand from how often he went outside when it was late and wandered the streets simply for something to do. He could probably get places with all of his senses lost.

With a small sigh, Kurt shrugged to himself and pulled his hands from his coat pockets, shivering a little bit, and pulled his scarf away from his mouth so he could breathe in the brisk, cold winter air. His eyes skimmed the familiar park, before he simply made his way over to the swings that sat behind everything else. He automatically sat down on the left one (he had always swung on that swing, ever since he was a kid) and turned so that he was facing the park, starting to push himself back and forth slowly to build up speed.

The swings were surprisingly well maintained, so there wasn't any loud, annoying squeaking noises that normally came with fairly old swing sets. Kurt's hands found their grip on the chains near his neck before he started swinging too high and fell backwards, and he finally just closed his eyes, keeping his balance carefully, getting lost in the soothing back and forth motion and the way that the cold air hit his face. Even with the cold air practically slapping him in his face, it was all so calming…

His thoughts started slipping a little bit, against his will. He didn't know why… but he started thinking about his mother, for some reason, despite the evident pain that stabbed his heart like a knife when he simply pictured her face. Her hazel eyes… maybe that was it. Kurt hadn't really met anyone else with hazel eyes that he was aware of, and then suddenly the new kid—Blaine, he mentally corrected himself—talks to him and stares into his blue eyes with his hazel ones…

It wasn't much for Kurt to admit to himself that he had a small crush on the new kid. A purely physical crush, since he _was_ extremely good looking, even a blind person would know that from how Blaine sounded then he talked. His personality was… well, it was interesting, but it wasn't like Kurt knew enough about him to shout to the world (or at least tell someone) that it wasn't a physical based crush. Big deal, Kurt got those kinds of crushes on tons of guys.

Well, at the same time, Blaine wasn't like any other guys in Lima… he just wasn't like any guy Kurt had ever met. He had this odd manner of speech, which was so polite that it was almost endearing, or maybe it was just flat out endearing, with such a relaxed, well-mannered smile that Kurt wondered if maybe Blaine forced himself to smile like that. From what he could remember, Sam had never been that relaxed when he started school at McKinley the year before… it wasn't _normal_ for someone to be so calm when it came to being in a new environment.

Then again, it didn't really seem like Blaine Anderson was the standard normal in any way, shape, or form.

Footsteps pulled Kurt from his thoughts, and his eyes snapped open and he dragged his heels against the mulch below him without thinking too much about it, scanning the area as fast as possible. He started to stand up from the swings… but the footsteps had stopped for a few moments… and Kurt sat back down on the swing slowly and just stared even more, trying to figure out who or what was near him. After about half a minute of silence, there was a murmur of indiscernible words and then the footsteps started up again, but this time going away from him.

The footfalls faded away, and Kurt was left in silence, wondering if he had just been hearing things. It wouldn't have been the first time he had just heard things in the middle of the night, so he figured that he probably was, and after taking another deep breath of frigid air, he tilted his head back to stare at the sky… and saw white dots of fluff starting to float slowly to the ground. One fell on the bridge of his nose, and he blinked a few times at the wet coldness, tipping his head back forwards and staring ahead of him as the snow started falling faster.

Distantly, he swore he heard the chirping of a bird, despite the fact that it was very much winter _and_ it had just started snowing.

He sat there a little while longer, letting the snow fall on and around him, blanketing everything a beautiful white.


	3. Into Water

**Title:** Closed Off (3/?)  
><strong>Author:<strong> foreternityblue  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13 (rating will go up, most likely)  
><strong>Chapter Word Count:<strong> 4, 000  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Ever since his mother's death, Kurt Hummel hasn't been able to sleep at night and shut the rest of the world out, just trying to forget everything. Yet, when a mysterious boy with hazel eyes moves into town everything becomes harder to avoid. Klaine AU

**Author's Note:** Alright, here's chapter three. I'm pushing myself through this story, since I basically figured out that if I don't post a chapter per day that I tend to loose interest in writing a story. This one is one that I actually really want to finish, so this is probably all I'll be uploading for... however long it is. I still haven't the faintest idea of how long it will be... oh well.

* * *

><p>It snowed the entire night into the morning, and then it <em>continued<em> snowing all morning and into the afternoon steadily. Due to the surprise snowfall, school was closed for the day because the roads were too rough for buses to go anywhere. When Kurt came home from swinging in the park, it was around three in the morning and there was already a good five or so inches of snow outside, and as he sat around in his room for two hours reading after taking a warm shower as quietly as possible, another three, maybe four inches of snow were added on.

He fell asleep as he normally did, curled up under the blankets with his book nearby. Well, after checking the school website, that is. They already had the announcement posted that there wasn't going to be school the next day. Despite the fact that he didn't have school to go to that day, he found himself awake at seven and entirely unable to go back to sleep, so with a disgruntled sigh he sat up and pulled himself out of bed, shivering as the silk on his skin became annoyingly cold in no time. The house's heating was on, but the temperature difference between his bed and his room was extremely obvious.

After a few moments of standing there stiffly to keep from shivering too much, Kurt sighed and walked over to his closet, deciding that wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt wouldn't exactly hurt, since he was definitely staying home all day and no one apart from his family as going to see him. So, he slid off his silk pajamas and pulled on one of the two pairs of sweatpants that he owned and one of his school's sweatshirts. When he situated himself in his clothes he sighed and headed out of the bedroom, the house mainly quiet all around him.

It occurred to Kurt that neither his father nor his stepmother would be going into work that day, so he made the decision to turn into the kitchen and start making breakfast for the rest of his family. He opened the refrigerator and bent down, pulling out the carton of eggs, the jug of milk, butter, and a packet of bacon. After setting the armful down he walked over to the cabinet and reached up for the pancake mix that was sitting up there, setting it down next to everything else.

Kurt carefully pulled out a few pans from another cabinet, and started humming a random song to himself, trying to concentrate on the cooking as much as possible. It was weird, for him to cook alone, since he hadn't done so since it was just he and his father… well, even then, he tended to cook when Burt was in the living room, or in the kitchen sitting at the table reading the paper. Yet, there he stood, alone in the kitchen while his family was all sleeping, and it was an odd feeling. One that Kurt wasn't particularly fond of… but also one that he didn't exactly despite.

An image of his mother baking with him standing on a stool trying to help her flashed in front of his eyes out of nowhere, and Kurt had to blink hard a few times, shaking his head before turning on the stove and cutting a pad of butter for the pan, dropping it in and letting it melt on its own as he got to work mixing the pancake mix with the eggs and oil he retrieved from the pantry, as well.

A batch of pancakes, nine cooked eggs (three for his father, three for Finn, two for Carole, and one for himself), and half of a packet of bacon later, Kurt set the table carefully, checking the clock and seeing that it was almost eight in the morning. With a small sigh, he sat down in front of his plate and started eating quietly.

He heard footsteps coming down the hall behind him when he was almost done eating, and Kurt blinked once, turning around. When he saw Carole leaned against the doorframe that led into the kitchen, smiling over at him, he smiled in return and gestured for her to sit down in her proper place.

"Looks and smells delicious, Kurt," she gushed as she walked past him, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss against his cheek before sitting down in front of the plate that was for her. "And you're even wearing sweats on this lovely snow day. It's gorgeous outside, so, so bright! You should go take a look," she suggested amicably, before picking up her fork and starting to eat.

Kurt smiled and laughed good-naturedly, finishing his plate and rinsing it in the sink, setting it in the dishwasher easily. Of course, the laugh was a little forced, as was the nod that followed it before he left the kitchen and walked into the living room, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. He stood next to the couch surfing the channels for a few moments, before glancing over at the window where the curtains were closed, and he set the remote back onto the couch and walked over to the window, pulling the piece of fabric aside.

The bright light that infiltrated the room was bright enough to caused Kurt's vision to go spotty for a few moments, and he had to blink rapidly in order to properly look outside. It really was beautiful, once you got past the blinding brightness that tried to burn your corneas to a crisp. It was still snowing, but the snow was mainly untouched… probably mostly because it was still early and little kids were still asleep in their beds, and if Kurt wasn't as against the cold as he was, he probably would have already been outside.

There was a brief flash of color not too far away from the window that Kurt was standing at, a few streets over at most, and he blinked a few times again and squinted them, leaning forwards until his forehead was pressed against the cold glass. A shiver ran down his spine at the temperature change, and he bit his bottom lip, squinting his eyes when he saw a yellow shape in the distance again.

It was only there for about ten seconds before it descended in the air, and disappeared behind the houses, causing Kurt to tilt his head to the side slightly in confusion. That _couldn't_ be a bird, it was the dead of winter and it was _snowing_, birds couldn't…

_I have a pet bird, he's a warbler named Pavarotti._

Was Blaine insane enough to let his bird fly when it was January and snowing outside? … Well, maybe not insane, maybe he was just that kind, that loving. To a bird. Kurt imagined that if he were a bird, he wouldn't like to be caged and kept inside all the time… he would have liked to fly at least a little bit every day. Being caged honestly couldn't be that fun. Or fun at all.

Kurt supposed that Blaine was just really nice. Too nice, even… what if Pavarotti (if that was what he had seen) flew away and never came back? There was just something constantly odd about that guy, whenever Kurt would have a simple sign that reminded him of the new kid…

With a sigh, he let the curtain fall back into place when he stepped back to go back to the couch, sitting down on it and going back through the channels easily, pushing any thoughts about the outside world away and pushing them to the far corner of his mind that he could very easily ignore on most days. That day was no exception, of course, and he found himself nestled into the corner of his family's comfortable couch in his sweats, half lying down with his head resting against the armrest, his body twisting somewhat oddly in order to accommodate his body onto the couch.

—

The rest of that day passed by rather quickly; it was mainly spent in front of the TV sipping mugs of hot chocolate or hot cider that Carole brought him. He complied with his father and stepbrother's wishes when they asked to watch something else, and just relaxed, dozing off once (luckily, his family perceived that as him just being a lazy teenager for once) and sleeping until dinner. He ate with his family and then returned to the living room with them and listening to them talk idly while watching TV until it was 10:24, decidedly going up to his room after bidding his family goodnight.

His night went how it normally did. He had a minor desire to go outside more than once, but he reminded himself that it had only stopped snowing after dinnertime, and going outside would practically be suicide, no matter how many layers that he wore since, the night before had been dry at first, but there was snow and probably ice outside at that point. So, he stayed under his blankets with a book and his laptop, going through the night quietly as he normally did, trying not to alert anyone in the house that he was very much awake.

Well, not exactly as he normally did. For some insane reason, he couldn't even get his standard two hours of sleep, so he ended up lying in bed staring at the ceiling between five and seven, trying to fall asleep at least ten separate times before just giving up. Finally, he ended up sliding out of bed and walking over to the window, glancing outside at his front yard, inwardly hoping for another snow day because if there wasn't one… well, he was just going to have a bad day.

The roads were, regrettably, much clearer than the day before, and they were also rather gross like how snow got when cars continuously ran over it. With a wrinkle of his nose and a light sigh, he pulled off his sweats slowly (he had never changed from the day before, sadly), took a shower and changed into another pair of skinny jeans, a white t-shirt, and a beige oversized sweater.

He went through his usual morning routine, saying hello to his stepmother, eating his breakfast, and driving him and Finn to school. There was actually traffic in Lima, as there always was when it snowed a ton and people were paranoid about crashing on the road. Kurt was _somewhat_ paranoid about crashing but he wasn't going five miles per hour, unlike the person he got stuck behind for half the drive to school. By the time he parked, Finn had been getting a little antsy and Kurt was just even more irritated than before.

The slush on the ground was gross to look at when he opened the door and Kurt was even more annoyed as he walked across the parking lot, avoiding snowballs that were being launched by his peers while also watching his every step as he walked towards his two friends. It was all so bothersome. He ended up tightening the scarf around his neck securely for no exact reason as they waved to him and the three of them started walking towards the school easily. They gossiped about Blaine, of course. Who or what else could they _possibly_ talk about?

So, maybe Kurt was having a bad morning. A really bad morning, actually. There had been previous nights in which he hadn't slept at _all_ but that was mainly in eighth grade and freshmen year. It was so much easier for him to get annoyed at that point, even the smallest things set him off in practically no time at all.

Which was why, when he was shoved at his locker by a stupid jock, who had shoved him by his shoulder, thus forcing him to turn sharply and drop everything in his arms, his back slamming into the pair of lockers next to him, he basically snapped. There had already been a lot of pent up anger in his body, so it really should have been expected… well, to Kurt himself.

"_What_ is your problem?" he demanded, pushing himself away from the lockers and taking a step towards the pair of letterman jacket-wearing jocks, both of which had stopped and were turning towards him with surprised expressions on their faces. "What did I _ever_ do to you? Huh, tell me that, if you would please, you cultureless Neanderthals who have absolutely no manners—"

If Kurt had been in his right mind, he would have realized long before he opened his mouth that practically screaming at two full-sized teenage jocks in the middle of his crowded school hallway was a _very_ bad idea. He didn't even really realize it when both of their surprised expressions morphed into angered expressions, and they took threatening steps towards him. The only thing that pulled him back to the real world was a sudden gentle hand on his shoulder that shook him once, and he blinked, his entire body stiffening.

For a few fleeting moments, he was terrified that jocks were going to team up on him and beat him up while everyone in the hallway watched, none of them bothering to call for a teacher or anything. That is, until he snapped his head to the side, his blue eyes wide with panic… before he realized that someone slightly shorter than him was standing there, peering up at him worriedly through his long eyelashes.

Kurt hadn't realized until that moment that Blaine had really, _really_ long eyelashes that framed his hazel eyes rather attractively.

The jocks paused in front of them, before one of them grumbled, "You got lucky this time, _Lady_," spitting the last word before they both turned around and stalked over, glancing over their shoulders every so often to glare over at Kurt.

_How the hell did he do that?_ Was the absolute _only_ thing that Kurt was wondering at that moment, staring after the jocks before slowly turning around as all the onlookers continued with their conversations after a few long moments of absolute silence. When he had turned around, Blaine wasn't there anymore… well, until he looked down and saw the teenager gathering Kurt's stuff into his arms.

"You don't…" Kurt started, moving to kneel down and help with picking up his books and everything else that had fallen to the ground when he was shoved. Before he could finish his thought or even get to the ground though, Blaine was standing up, balancing Kurt's pre-calculus stuff (and a few other things for other classes) in his arms, and was smiling gently at him, handing him the pile of his school stuff.

"Yes, I do have to. And I _want_ to help you, so don't try any excuses on me, it's already done." He paused briefly, "And I'm pretty sure they just spared me because they have no reason to actually harm me in any way as of now. Though, I don't understand why they would shove you into lockers…"

With a sigh, Kurt took his books back and returned to his locker, organizing everything to be the way that he wanted it to be, keeping his pre-calculus books in hand, "It's because I'm different, that's all," he muttered, another frown pulling at the corner of his lips. "Anyways, just go to class, I'll see you there."

Blaine probably nodded—Kurt was turned away, so he wasn't entirely sure—and there was a gentle pat on his shoulder before the dark haired teen started walking down the hallway towards their shared classroom. Kurt only looked away from his locker to watch him go once, mainly because he was kind of confused by the other teenager…

For one thing, it wasn't exactly normal for people to help each other around this school, not even friends helped each other very often. There had been multiple times when Kurt was shoved when Rachel and/or Mercedes was there, and she/they didn't do anything about it towards the jocks, only helping him up and asking him it he was alright. Where did Blaine even come from? Honestly?

Once Kurt got the right books, he shut his locker carefully and went on his way to class with his head held high as a 'Bitch, please' expression overtook his face since he was still slightly irritated. People didn't necessarily care that Kurt Hummel was angry, though. Not anyone that he was passing on her way to pre-calculus, anyways, and he stepped into the classroom and practically strutted over to his seat, setting his books down and sitting down with a sigh.

Blaine looked up from whatever he was writing and glanced over at Kurt, an eyebrow raised and a questioning expression evident in his hazel eyes, "Hey, are you doing alright?" he asked, sitting up from where he was leaned over. Kurt wasn't sure if he was somewhat intimidated by the fact that Blaine seemed to center all of his attention solely on the brunet, or if he was flattered.

With another exasperated sigh, Kurt shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes briefly, "I'm just having a bad morning," he responded, turning so he could look at Blaine as well, meeting his gaze levelly. "I didn't really… sleep well, last night, and the snow always complicates things." He wasn't sure why he was admitting this to a person he barely knew when he never even told his family that he had issues sleeping, but there was just something about Blaine that made it almost annoyingly easy to talk to him. Not that Kurt was about to spill his secrets to the guy. Kurt wasn't that insane, or that trusting of a person at all.

A soft laugh filled the air and Kurt resisted the urge to glare over at Blaine, who looked a little amused. Kurt was honestly about to ask what was so amusing about the fact that Kurt was having a rather horrible morning. "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you nor your pain, I assure you," Blaine soothed when he finally noticed the very _not_ amused look on the brunet's face, "I didn't sleep very well last night, either. Though, I don't have an innate hatred for snow, since I happen to love it."

The fact that Blaine didn't sleep well the night before slid off of Kurt's back like an ice cube sliding down a smooth tilted surface, and he just stared when Blaine mentioned that he loved the snow. "How, for the love of Gucci, can you love the snow? It's wet, and cold… it's just rain in a more solid form that makes it easier to fall when you walk outside. Plus, it's just disgusting after cars and small children as well as the occasional teenage idiot run over it multiple times."

Blaine shrugged a little bit, glancing down at his paper—it was his homework, now that Kurt took a good look at it—before looking back at the paler teen, still smiling that small, polite smile. "Snow is like… a blank canvas. It's almost like a second chance, really," Blaine explained, "in a way, snow represents innocence, as well. It is pure and untouched, at first, only to be tainted by people and manmade items. Snow represents a lot of things, Kurt… plus, it's just really nice to look at."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh a briefly at what Blaine said, shaking his head and turning to his books when the warning bell rung, starting to organize everything for the class that was going to start soon. "You're just… you're insane, I'm sure of it, now," he muttered, taking out his homework and a pencil, opening his notebook to a new page, "it's just frozen water, Blaine."

"You seem to see the rest of the world rather negatively, don't you?" Blaine said after a few moments of silence, and Kurt stopped moving the things on his desk, slowly turning his head to look at the new kid, a confused expression on his face that also looked pretty damn pissed off, as well. "That wasn't meant as an insult, I assure you, and I'm sorry if you took it that way, but you seem to look at everything rather pessimistically from what I can tell. Yes, snow is frozen water, but you don't have to see it as just that and I'm sure that you know that. Just… try to answer this for me: when snow melts, what does it become?"

Several times, Kurt had opened his mouth to say that he most certainly didn't see things pessimistically, but always ended up closing it because Blaine just kept talking, and talking. He scoffed at the question, "It becomes water."

"Wrong," Blaine replied softly, his smile starting to boarder line a smirk, oddly enough… and Kurt couldn't stop himself from staring. "Well, scientifically and technically, it's absolutely correct, but there's something else snow becomes when it melts. Just think about it. You're smart, if the fact that by just glancing at your homework I can tell it's all right is anything to go by, you'll figure it out." He winked and Kurt could feel his face heat up a little bit before he turned back to his papers and the front of the room, where their teacher was already starting class.

He hadn't even heard the bell ring.

The rest of the school day he tried to figure out the question that Blaine had asked him, because it was honestly bothering him that he hadn't even the _faintest_ idea what Blaine wanted to hear. When snow melted, it turned into water; it was really as simple as that. Or it should have been as simple as that, but then the new kid who Kurt shouldn't have cared so much about—he didn't _care_, care about the guy who was basically a stranger, he just cared about what Blaine said and how much it affected him for no reason—made it that much more complicated, and he couldn't stop wondering.

He couldn't stop wondering about how Blaine's mind worked, and why he always seemed to constantly polite despite where he was. Why he was almost scarily nice to people and why he was always smiling and always seemed to belong there even though it was constantly evident that he most certainly did not, what with his personality and the _huge_ fact that he was new to town.

Maybe it was the kind but analytical look that Blaine had been giving him as they talked, as if he were trying to figure Kurt out as much as Kurt was trying to figure him out that made Kurt so keen to know about him.

Maybe he really was trying to figure Kurt out. That was yet another thing that Kurt wasn't exactly used to… he was used to people _not_ trying to figure him out, because it was always made clear that he was complicated and didn't let people in enough so that they could properly judge him. Mercedes and Rachel had tried, once, to figure him out but they seemed to have given up soon after they began, and Kurt was perfectly okay with that. He was _extremely_ okay with that.

Honestly, Kurt wasn't sure if he was nervous or amused about the thought of Blaine trying to figure him out. Yet, it was almost as if, with how Blaine looked at him, the shorter teenager thought that he already had Kurt mostly figured out. He reassured himself, however, that the dark haired teen couldn't possibly have him figured out apart from his outer layer that everyone knew of.

When he passed out practically the moment he got home, he dreamt about snow.


	4. Melting

**Title:** Closed Off (4/?)  
><strong>Author:<strong> foreternityblue  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13 (rating will go up, most likely)  
><strong>Chapter Word Count:<strong> 3, 300  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Ever since his mother's death, Kurt Hummel hasn't been able to sleep at night and shut the rest of the world out, just trying to forget everything. Yet, when a mysterious boy with hazel eyes moves into town everything becomes harder to avoid. Klaine AU

**Author's Note:** Most of you guys figured it out last chapter, but the whole "When snow melts, what does it turn into?" is a reference to Fruits Basket. Alright, chapter four.

* * *

><p>The dream was simple… it was nice, actually, in a really weird way.<p>

It was from his own point of view, so he wasn't looking upon the scene. Actually, he had just been lying there in a field of snow as the flakes of frozen water fell all around and on him, eventually covering him in a blanket of snow. He hadn't been cold, though, at all. He had actually felt pleasantly warm… safe, almost, lying in the soft snow for what felt like hours but only seconds at the same time. Somehow that made sense in Kurt's mind.

It kind of felt like he was lying in a field of cotton, not of snow. Near the end of the dream, the flat grayness of the sky started to ebb away as the snow started to melt slowly. He was about to sit up and look around once the sky became a bright, beautiful shade of blue, but to no avail. He woke up just as he lifted his head from the ground.

When he woke up and rolled over to check the time, it was well past dinnertime. Actually, it was around the time that Kurt would retire to his room and tell his family goodnight (in other words, around ten 'o clock). He slid out of his bed, stretching a little bit and groaning at the slight discomfort he felt, moving as swiftly as possible to change out of the outfit he had worn to school.

By the time he had dragged himself up to his room earlier that day, Kurt was basically half asleep. He could have _sworn_ that he had changed before crawling into bed, but he had apparently been wrong and remembered it incorrectly. Then again, that wasn't exactly surprising. So he switched his skinny jeans out for silk pajama bottoms, and his sweater and t-shirt for one of his silk button-up tops that matched the pants.

Sighing softly to himself, he pulled his backpack onto the bed and opened it, pulling out his homework carefully so that he could start on it, since he was already rather behind on his usual schedule. He didn't really feel hungry, so he figured that he'd just wander downstairs later on when he actually was hungry enough that he wanted to eat something. Passively, he worked on his English homework, reading the book assigned to his class and annotating it carefully.

He could hear footsteps coming down the hall around eleven, and Kurt paid it no mind until the door to his room opened slowly. Then, and only then, he looked up from the book open in his lap and glanced over to see Carole standing there, smiling at him softly and holding a plate of food. His stomach growled suddenly and he glanced down, wondering how he missed the build-up of hunger in his stomach, before closing his book promptly, gesturing for his stepmother to walk over to his bed.

"You were asleep when I came up to get you and Finn for dinner," Carole explained, even though Kurt was already extremely aware of that fact. "I didn't want to wake you, so I kept your dinner warm and everything," she sat down on the edge of the bed and handed Kurt the plate that had a large portion of spaghetti on it. Carole gazed over at him for a few moments, and the brunet was acutely aware of the worry that was in her eyes, "… Kurt, are you okay?"

Kurt nodded automatically, "Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about me, Carole; I just needed some sleep this afternoon. I'll probably go back to sleep soon, I only need to annotate one more chapter." The lie came easily, effortlessly. It probably should have affected him in some way, telling a lie so easily, but it really didn't. He wasn't entirely sure why, but it didn't.

His stepmother lingered, and Kurt was fairly certain that she was about to ask something else… but she changed her mind, nodding and smiling at him rather weakly, reaching over to give him a brief, but warm, hug. The hug was lovely, and in a way he didn't want to pull away because it felt safe… but he only returned the hug briefly before pulling away and smiling at her a little bit, just to make it seem like he was really okay. She nodded once more, and stood up, told him goodbye, and left his room, closing the door gently behind her.

He ate rather quickly, and set the mostly empty plate on the floor next to his bed when he was done, before picking up the book again and continuing to annotate the pages. Well, he hadn't _completely_ lied to Carole, since he really only had to annotate one more chapter, but there was still all of his other homework that he had to get finished, sadly, and he didn't finish everything until around one in the morning, when everyone else in the house was fast asleep and he was left with nothing else to do.

Well, other than ponder his thoughts, anyways. Mainly he thought about the dream that he had, since that had been rather odd and… out of the blue, really. Kurt didn't dream, not really. The last dream he had was way back… well, when he was eight, if he was remembering correctly. Yet, the first dream is had in eight years was about _snow_ of all things.

The first dream that Kurt Hummel had since he was a child was, apparently, caused by some guy that he barely knew. The thought annoyed the brunet enough to just crawl under his covers and basically glare at his ceiling until it was about five in the morning and he fell into another one of his dreamless sleeps.

—

A week later, Kurt hadn't figured out much more about Blaine, though they had many different conversations about basically nothing. Once they debated who was better: Lady Gaga or Katy Perry. Another time they had conversed about different issues of Vogue, though they hadn't had a "deep" conversation since the snow incident.

Kurt still hadn't figured out the question.

After a rather long day that included a stressful pre-calculus test and a physics test, Kurt spent most of the afternoon sleeping before eating dinner as he normally did, then just sitting with his family watching TV. He wasn't ignoring his homework, not really, since it couldn't be considered ignoring if he was pretty much ahead compared to normal student standards since he was constantly checking over his homework at night as a way to pass the time.

He went up to his room at the same time that his father did, meaning around midnight, and hugged Burt goodnight for the first time in a while, simply because he wanted to. Plus, it had felt like they had been distant lately… it was kind of a way for Kurt to remind his father that he loved him no matter what.

When he walked into his room, his changed out of his clothes and grabbed a random book from his bookshelf to read through the night. Yet, when he finally got himself settled and opened the book to the first page, he found it hard to concentrate on reading. There were too many thoughts in his mind, and it was hard to clear everything out in order to properly submerse himself in the book and let time pass unwatched.

It was only 2:46 when he next checked the clock that was always on his bedside table, and he resisted the urge to scream in frustration, though only because doing so would wake up everyone else in the house. Time was passing too slowly and there were too many thoughts that threatened to drown Kurt if he didn't do something about them soon. If only it were possible for him to literally wash out his thoughts.

Before he really knew what he was doing, he was changing from his pajamas into the skinny jeans that he had worn to school earlier, and a black turtleneck. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and wrinkled his nose at how 'depressed poet' he looked, but turned away from the glass quickly and pulled on his boots, zipping them up. Kurt hurried down the stairs as quickly, but as quietly, as possible, and he grabbed his gloves, pulling them on, quickly followed by his scarf and then his jacket.

He eased open the door and slid outside, and had the strong urge to go back inside when he was barely even out the door, it was just… _cold_. Still, he closed the door behind him for some reason and started down the front walk, hurrying along and not paying much attention to where he was walking. When he reached the sidewalk, Kurt stopped abruptly and stared down at the pavement, and then up and down the road, his eyebrows creasing a little bit.

It appeared like it snowed again while he was asleep… and it had recently stopped snowing, if the new, mainly untouched blanket of snow was anything to go by at all. Kurt blinked a few times and ended up just standing there in the cold, staring at the snow, his gaze rather intense as he tried to figure something out… it took him a few moments to finally realize that he was thinking about the question Blaine asked him earlier.

His brain felt stretched, because, apparently, one part of his brain was _far_ ahead of the other. It was a weird feeling, and it gave him a headache, and with a sigh, Kurt turned and started down the sidewalk, leaving footprints behind as he walked, the crunching of his snow sounding almost too loud to his mind. Far, _far_ too loud.

After about five minutes of walking, something occurred to Kurt out of practically nowhere, and he came to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk, glancing around to figure out where, exactly, he was. He was close to the park, he soon realized, and he walked to the edge of the sidewalk that was adjacent to someone's yard, and he bent down, leaning over and brushing the multiple inches of snow to the side.

He could feel his fingers grow colder, become numb, as he drug through the snow carefully, and when he reached the bottom he found himself staring at grass. Just grass. He gasped a little bit, covering his mouth with his wet, numb, and very _cold_ hand as a realization dawned upon him.

"What does water become…?" he muttered, swallowing thickly before trying to brush the snow back into place. "Water becomes… it becomes…" he stood up, wondering why he hadn't realized it sooner. The answer was so simple… and, yet, at the same time, it wasn't that simple. It wasn't as simple as saying '_When snow melts it becomes water_,' because such an answer needed thought.

Kurt spun on his heels, continuing down the sidewalk quickly and turning into the park, his mind racing. It took him a few moments to realize that he wasn't alone in the park, and he stopped walking again, his feet sinking into the snow a little bit as he stared over at the swings. Someone was sitting there, on the swing next to the one Kurt always sat at, and when he realized just who it was he started walking again, faster this time, right up to the swings.

Blaine seemed to be distracted by something, until Kurt grew closer and his footsteps louder, causing the other teenager to blink and then gaze over at him, a look of shock and confusion crossing his face briefly as he stopped the swing from its back and forth motion, opening his mouth to say something when Kurt stopped about a foot in front of him. He didn't get the chance to utter a single syllable, though, before Kurt spoke on his own.

"It becomes spring."

The confusion in Blaine's hazel eyes overpowered the shock and he tilted his head to the side a little bit, "What—_oh_," he seemed to realize what Kurt was talking about barely a moment later, and a gentle smile pulled at his lips as the confusion was replaced by an expression that Kurt couldn't really make out. It didn't look like an impressed expression, not really, but more like a… knowing expression. "I knew you could figure it out," he said, nodding a little bit and continuing to smile, "When snow melts, it becomes spring."

Kurt sighed and moved to sit down in the familiar swing, pushing himself back and forth absentmindedly as he glanced over a Blaine, who seemed to be staring at the sky. Well, until he lowered his gaze and turned to look at Kurt in return after a solid minute or so of just staring. "Where did you even come up with such a ridiculous question? And what _are_ you doing outside at this time of night in this weather?"

Yes, the last question was fairly hypocritical to ask, but Kurt couldn't really help himself. He wasn't used to seeing anyone else outside at this time, and he was still struggling with the fact that Blaine Anderson was sitting on a swing next to him when he was somewhere around three in the morning.

Blaine stared over at Kurt, his expression rather blank before he smiled a little bit and turned his head back to the sky as he pushed himself back and forth on the swing again, keeping his feet mainly on the ground. There was an almost sad look in his hazel eyes, from what Kurt could see as he continued to stare over at him. "A person, a very kind, thoughtful person, asked me the same question a while ago. I was skeptical at first, but I got it eventually, just like you." His voice was so calm, and Kurt tilted his head to the side slightly, not looking away from Blaine even as he started to push himself back and forth a little bit, mainly absentmindedly.

"Though, as far as what I'm doing out here goes," Blaine continued after they sat there in silence for a few moments, finally pulling his gaze from the side, concentrating it on Kurt once again as their eyes locked together. "I could very well ask you the same thing," he retorted playfully, a soft laugh falling from his lips.

Kurt rolled his eyes at the apparently witty retort, and this time he looked away from the other teenager, though he turned his gaze to the ground instead. "Well, I asked you first, so you should still answer me," he responded, before shrugging his shoulders shallowly. "But I can't sleep, if you _really_ want to know." It wasn't much of admittance, but it wasn't like he was telling Blaine that he couldn't sleep at night at _all_. He was only admitting just one miniscule night.

"Me neither," Blaine stated, and Kurt glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, seeing that the shorter teenager was staring in front of him, rather than up at the sky like he was before or down at the ground like Kurt. "Sleep, that is. I can't sleep," he cleared up, starting to laughing a little bit, "I'm sorry, I made that sound so much more complicated than it was meant to sound. I just can't sleep, so I came here, like you."

Kurt didn't know what came over him, but he was suddenly asking, "You couldn't sleep just tonight or in general?" He could feel Blaine's questioning, somewhat shocked stare, but he kept his gaze trained onto the ground as he pushed himself back and forth gently. Actually, he wasn't sure what had been coming over him for the entirety of the night, since everything just felt… unbelievable, in a way.

There were a few moments of silence, which caused Kurt to wonder if Blaine was just going to ignore the question. "In general," Blaine finally said, his voice steady and even, causing Kurt to slowly peer over at him again, only to find his hazel eyes staring over at him with an intense gaze. "What about you?" Kurt's face hardened a little bit at the question and he glanced down at the ground again, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. It's just a question."

For a moment, Kurt eyebrows rose slightly in shock, before he turned away from Blaine completely and started pushing himself back and forth more. "You're not like everyone else in this town."

"Oh? How so, Kurt?"

"Well…" Kurt took a deep breath, "you're polite, almost abnormally polite… and really, really nice. You seem attentive, and you're actually genuinely interested in getting to know me, from what I can tell. You, apparently, take other peoples' feelings into consideration… you're so _positive_ sometimes that I can't really tell if it's sickening or just endearing to an extent."

Blaine stared over at Kurt for a little while longer, his expression rather blank from what Kurt could see out of the corner of his eye, before he started smiling just slightly and laughed softly, "I take pride in being different, mind you. And, you're not exactly like everyone else either, Kurt."

Suddenly, Blaine was standing up and Kurt tilted his head up, opening his mouth to ask him what he meant, again, because he was just so… mysterious, but in a really odd way. However, before Kurt could utter the first syllable of what, Blaine was standing in front of him, gripping onto the chains that held the swing up just above there Kurt's hands were, and he was leaning down. How fast his heart was racing in his chest and how much it pounded concerned Kurt a little bit—he actually wondered if Blaine could hear his heartbeat, or if he could break his ribcage with how much his heart was pounding. Kurt felt him brushing his lips gently across his forehead, causing Kurt to both flush and blink multiple times in confusion. His mind was in sudden overdrive, like his heart definitely was. "Wait—"

"You should probably leave soon," Blaine said, his voice clear as he let go of the chains and straightened up, gazing down at Kurt with an almost concerned expression. "Your forehead is freezing and I think that you're getting frost on your eyelashes. You've been out here a little too long." He started walking backwards before the brunet could say anything, "I'll see you in school, Kurt."

Honestly, Kurt wanted to shout after him. He wasn't sure what he wanted to shout, but he wanted to say something… but Blaine was gone before he could even process the thought properly, turning around and walking out of the park, taking a right and disappearing behind the trees and bushes that lined the sidewalk. Kurt sat there for a little while longer, the swing going in a slight back and forth motion as his mind tried to process what just happened.

For a few moments he wondered, stupidly, if he was dreaming and if this all was just some insane thing his subconscious made up. Finally, he stood up from the swing and took a few deep breaths before following the footsteps that he had laid down for himself when he was walking into the park.

His mind was absolutely swamped with thoughts and questions and wonderings… why was Blaine so odd? Why did he have the mannerisms that he had? Just as Kurt stepped out of the park, a mental image of his mother flashed in front of his eyes and he shook his head quickly, getting rid of it as he pushed his hand into his winter coat's pockets.

Halfway home, it started snowing again.


	5. Scary, Terrifying, Petrifying

**Title:** Closed Off (5/?)  
><strong>Author:<strong> foreternityblue  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Blaine/Kurt  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13 (rating will go up, most likely)  
><strong>Chapter Word Count:<strong> 4, 500  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Ever since his mother's death, Kurt Hummel hasn't been able to sleep at night and shut the rest of the world out, just trying to forget everything. Yet, when a mysterious boy with hazel eyes moves into town everything becomes harder to avoid. Klaine AU

**Author's Note:** Trying to keep to my "One chapter a day" thing. I really should write out a proper outline for this story though, because I haven't yet for some insane reason... yeah, I'll probably do that tonight. Anyways, chapter five!

* * *

><p>Kurt and Blaine's interactions were rather… well, they were actually normal, as far as Kurt was concerned. They really only talked in pre-calculus, and ever since the night when they talked in the snow they hadn't seen each other outside of school despite Blaine claiming that he really didn't sleep often, like Kurt. Regardless, they stuck to normal subjects, ones that didn't involve snow or spring or insomnia.<p>

Even though the sun had started to come out the day after Kurt figured out the question and got his answered verified, the gray clouds came back halfway through the school day and the temperature dropped again. It started snowing later that night, and Kurt couldn't tell if the weather was trying to tell him something, since the first half of school he had actually been in a rather good mood, though it steadily declined just before lunch time for some reason.

He ended up brushing it off as a coincidence. The weather didn't _really_ give people signs, after all, since all of that stuff was just rather ridiculous.

His views on snow didn't exactly change, either, especially because he got nailed in the face by a snowball from one of the idiotic jocks one morning two or three weeks after he and Blaine had talked in the park, when he was trying to make his way towards Rachel and Mercedes unharmed. It had been a shock, of course, as the snow melted against his face and slowly dripped down his skin, and he honestly had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep himself from screaming in frustration or just pure anger. Instead, he wiped at his face, gave the laughing jocks the best bitchy glare he could, before closing the distance between himself and the girls, both of whom had already began rushing over to him worriedly.

Needless to say, snow was still an absolute bother to Kurt, and he just wished that it would all melt away into water—spring. He wished that the snow would just melt into spring, so it could be warm and beautiful, and so the flowers could start to bloom once again. Of course, since it was still the middle of February, Kurt knew very well that such a thing wasn't about to happen, so he tried to walk into school with his two best friends as calmly as possible.

The girls talked about something—Kurt wasn't listening, he was too busy trying to mentally will the water not to drip too far into his shirt—and they all said their goodbyes at the proper times, turning into their respective hallways. Kurt walked as quickly as possible down his, his boots clicking against the floor as he tried not to wince at the squeaking of wet rubber soles that were all around him. The noise that was _always_ there when it snowed or rained was yet another thing to dislike greatly.

Kurt opened his locker quickly, reorganizing everything much faster than he normally would have, before grabbing a towel that was hanging there. It was always good to be prepared, after all, and he wiped the soft fabric over his face before hanging it back up, reaching for his can of hairspray next. He promptly turned to the mirror that hung on his locker door and restyled his hair carefully, making sure there were no strands of his bangs left hanging in front of his forehead. Such things were just a nuisance, and Kurt honestly looked like a twelve-year-old (well, he thought so) when his bangs were styled properly. So, after restyling his hair he set the can of styling product back in his locker before grabbing his pre-calculus stuff since he only had three minutes until class started.

Luckily, he got into his classroom just before the bell rang, somehow. He sighed softly to himself as he walked over to his shared table, setting his books down and sitting as gracefully as possible next to Blaine, who was staring over at him questioningly. Kurt ignored the gaze as he started to organize himself, faintly aware of Mrs. Reynolds still standing at the door talking to another teacher.

"Almost late for class," Blaine finally stated, and Kurt had to resist the urge to roll his eyes when he noticed the teasing smile on his face, "that's not like the Kurt Hummel I know."

As per usual with most things that Blaine said/did, Kurt didn't know if he was irritated by this or just amused, since Blaine really didn't know him that well. They talked about music, homework, and other rather miscellaneous things. It wasn't like Blaine knew his innermost secrets and desires. Blaine didn't know the pain that Kurt felt constantly but didn't pay much attention to. Nor did he know that it was actually quite hard for Kurt to look Blaine in the eye because of his stupid hazel eyes.

"You don't really know me that well," Kurt muttered as he grabbed his pencil and set it down, finally turning to Blaine and staring him dead on, trying not to flinch while at the same time attempting to maintain a rather detached, cold expression on his face. Yes, it was immensely easy to talk to Blaine but that didn't mean that he was going to open himself up to a guy he _still_ barely knew. Kurt was stubborn, and trusting someone wasn't something he was about to just… _do_.

Blaine's smile didn't disappear, much to Kurt's dissatisfaction, but it did get smaller and… more meaningful? More emotional? Why was Blaine even smiling at him like that? Kurt felt a slight edge of apprehension slice through him and he resisted the urge to bite his bottom lip. "You would be surprised at how well I might know you, Kurt," he said softly, and Kurt knew that his cold expression was ruined by the sudden confusion that filled him.

The confusion soon turned into irrational anger, and Kurt leaned slightly towards Blaine, trying not to glare, which he kind of succeeded at, "Listen, Anderson. You don't know me, nobody really knows me, so stop pretending that you do and stop pretending that you care. And, hey, I only started talking to you because I _pitied_ you, the new kid, who didn't know anything about this insane school," that was a blatant lie, and Kurt actually felt a little bad about telling it. "Just leave me alone, because I'm not interested."

With that, the classroom door shut and Mrs. Reynolds stepped to the front of the classroom, saying good morning, and Kurt turned away from Blaine, trying to ignore the hurt expression that was definitely in his eyes. Instead, Kurt just turned his head and leaned it against his hand so that he wouldn't have to look at Blaine, concentrating on the lesson and on taking notes.

He wasn't going to feel guilty or bad for this. He wasn't actually affected by lying for once.

Well, that was what Kurt kept telling himself, anyways.

* * *

><p>That afternoon, when Kurt got home, he couldn't sleep at all. Instead, he laid in bed and stared at his ceiling—okay, he glared at it, but whatever—trying to figure out why he couldn't sleep. It was weird, and it was something that Kurt didn't really want to think about because all he wanted to do at that point was <em>sleep<em>, because he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep later that night, just naturally.

A couple of hours of staring/glaring at the ceiling was what it took for an epiphany to occur in Kurt's mind. One that he wanted even less than being unable to fall asleep like he normally did. It was the singular thing that, maybe, Kurt's mind had been trying to avoid because it was just something he didn't want to think about whatsoever. In all technicality, no one would want to realize such a thing after trying to hard to push all things similar to it back…

Kurt Hummel was afraid.

He was afraid of letting someone really know him. He was afraid of those somehow knowing hazel eyes that simply gazed over at him and made him feel… weird. He was afraid of the smile that calmed him down for some reason. He was absolutely _terrified_ of the fact that he actually felt like he could trust Blaine even though he didn't trust anyone in the entire world before Blaine just dropped into his life.

The thought of opening up to someone and being emotionally vulnerable was one of the most petrifying things Kurt had ever thought about. It _was_ scary… but, somehow, there was something else that freaked Kurt out just a little bit more than anything else, even though he'd fiercely deny it if anyone tried to tell him that he ever thought about such a preposterous thing.

What if Blaine really never talked to him again?

With a soft groan, Kurt reached for one of his numerous pillows and plopped it on top of his head and he screamed into it, trying to release the high amount of pent up frustration he felt. It only got rid of a little bit of it, and Kurt was left lying there with a pillow on top of his face and his limbs sprawled out; his arms were above the covers, while his legs were below them.

It wasn't like the thought was caused by irrational paranoia. Blaine was ridiculously polite and kind _and_ compliant. It wasn't hard to imagine him actually never speaking to Kurt again… and the thought was actually kind of unnerving.

He was pulled from his train of thought when he heard a brief knock one his door, and he pushed himself to sit up, letting the pillow fall into his lap as he blinked a few times, trying to clear the spots from his vision as his bedroom door opened. Carole stepped inside of his room, smiling at him, that same concerned expression on her face. Kurt really wished that that look would go away… but, still, he smiled welcomingly at his stepmother as she walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge of it.

Kurt knew it didn't take much for Carole to be pleased, so he figured that she'd just ask if everything was all right, and as always he'd lie and say that everything was perfectly fine despite the fact that it definitely wasn't.

"Kurt," Carole began, tilting her head to the side a little bit, "I heard you scream earlier." At this, Kurt blinked a few times, a little confused as to how his stepmother heard his frustration. "You didn't press the pillow down against your face properly, I'm guessing." Well, that explained that. "But, regardless… darling, is there anything you want to talk about at all? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

With a small sigh, Kurt shrugged his shoulders, "It's nothing, Carole. I'm fine. Just… I did something rather thoughtless today and I'm kicking myself for it." His stepmother's eyebrow arched upwards a little bit and Kurt took a moment, weighing his choices. He would either continue to brush it off as nothing or… he could seek motherly advice. The thought was rather painful… "I snapped at someone who didn't deserve it, and he's one of my friends, I guess… I'm just worried he won't talk to me again."

Carole nodded a little bit, before reaching over and patting Kurt's shoulder gently, "Well, Kurt… the only thing I can tell you is that you should apologize to your friend and explain what happened, especially if you don't think he didn't deserve it and if you're worried he won't speak to you again. Apologizing can do _wonders_… and, if he's really a friend, then he'll forgive you. I'm sure that you've already thought about apologizing," Kurt almost hit himself. How had he _not_ thought about that? It was a basic thing to do… but, no, he had been too busy freaking out about other things, "But it would probably be a good idea to."

Kurt nodded a little bit, wanting to run his fingers through his hair, though he didn't. It probably wouldn't have hurt to do so, since he had just been lying down, but whatever, "You're right, Carole… it'd be a good idea to apologize to him… thank you."

With a small smile, Carole nodded and stood up after squeezing Kurt's shoulder gently, turning and walking out of the room, leaving her stepson sitting there, staring down at the pillow in his lap, just thinking quietly to himself.

For the rest of the day, Kurt went through his motions almost mechanically, absolutely stuck on thinking about how to talk to Blaine in school. If Blaine would even properly hear him out… plus, apologizing before or after pre-calculus just sounded really weird and rather stupid. It wasn't like Kurt saw Blaine outside of that classroom very often, and the school hallways were impersonal and crowded… but at the same time, Kurt didn't have Blaine's number, meaning that he couldn't call the other teenager or anything, which made everything just that more annoying to deal with.

After dinner, Kurt immediately went back up to his room and started on his homework, which he really didn't put much effort into, sadly. But, even with that fact, Kurt was pretty sure that he would get decent grades on the assignments and it wasn't really like a few Bs or Cs would destroy his GPA. He was too distracted to really completely concentrate, and he found it far too difficult to try to clear his head.

It was around midnight when Kurt could finally close his final book and set it down on the floor (one of the bad things about being unable to properly concentrate for Kurt was that he worked much more slowly than usual), and the rest of the house was absolutely silent, informing the brunet that his family was all asleep. He didn't feel tired at all, even though he hadn't slept at all since the night before, so he slid out of his bed and staggered towards his window, groaning a little bit because his legs _and_ feet were both asleep, making it both painful and difficult to walk.

With a sigh, he pulled the curtain aside and glanced outside. It wasn't snowing, thank goodness, and from what he could see from the weak streetlights that were scattered along the street he lived on it hadn't spontaneously snowed the entire day. Footprints were still everywhere and the street didn't look quite a gross, because most of the slush was cleared off to the sides of the roads. He continued staring over his street before lifting his gaze to the sky, and he blinked when he noticed that the moon and some faintly shinning stars were visible against the dark sky. There were no clouds out.

Suddenly, he saw a yellow figure rise up from behind houses and trees, and Kurt rubbed at his eyes, blinking a few times in surprise to make sure that he wasn't just seeing anything. And, sure enough, there was that yellow figure flying around in circles in the sky… and Kurt was moving away from the window within a few seconds, letting the curtain fall back into place as he unbuttoned his pajama top and hopped out of his silk pants, changing into the first pair of jeans that he grabbed (they weren't skinny jeans, for once) and he blindly grabbed a white t-shirt.

He hurried down the stairs, only remembering after a few steps that he had to be careful with how loud he was, and after calming himself down he pulled on his winter jacket and gloves, forgetting about his scarf. Kurt eased open the door and stepped out into the cold night, shutting the door behind him and hurrying down the front walk.

Honestly, Kurt wasn't sure why he was hurrying so much. There was no reason for him to rush as much as he was, really, but the fact didn't register in his mind as he glanced up at the sky, still seeing the circling yellow shape that stood out brightly against the dark sky. Kurt didn't give himself a moment to over think anything and pushed his hands into his pockets, estimating the amount of streets he would have to go down as he walked down the pavement, his breaths rather short.

He estimated three streets, and tried to keep his breathing steady as he walked down his street and turned right, heading in the general direction that he swore he saw the yellow figure. His blue eyes kept glancing up at the sky, and he found the figure still flying every time he looked up, and the fact comforted him for some bizarre reason. It just did, and he didn't question it as he turned onto the street that he estimated was the right one.

As he did, though, the sound of chirping was rather abruptly loud, and he looked up to see a yellow warbler flying towards him. Kurt smiled a little bit—his suspicion was correct, why wouldn't he fly. Instinctively, he stopped walking and outstretched an arm, and then his index finger as the bird flew over to him and perched on his finger automatically. He looked at the bird, who was looking at him, and he brought his free hand to his mouth, taking his glove off with his teeth and then pushing it into his pocket, stroking the back of the warbler's head with his index finger gently.

Kurt continued walking down the sidewalk, much more slowly this time, smiling softly at the bird that was still staring up at him. Some part of his mind was telling him this was all really weird, since birds probably weren't supposed to be this nice to strangers, "Hello," he muttered softly. Yes, he felt a little weird about talking to a _bird_, but he ignored the feeling as best as he could, "My name is Kurt."

The bird hopped to the side slightly on his finger and chirped shortly, turning its head to the side a little bit.

"Pavarotti!" Kurt heard, the voice no too far away from him, and he tore his gaze away from the beautiful bird, who chirped a little bit again at the name. "Pavarotti, where are you?" There were footsteps, and Kurt saw a familiar teenager walking down a house's front walk, looking up at the sky and squinting a little bit, before lowering his gaze to regular eye-level. "Pava—" Blaine turned on the sidewalk and stopped abruptly when he saw Kurt standing there… with Pavarotti.

The warbler _laughed_—at least, Kurt thought that he laughed, but then again Kurt was extremely sleep deprived (more than usual, anyways) and a little stressed out. Birds couldn't laugh. It seriously did sound like Pavarotti laughed, though—and flew off into the sky, leaving Kurt standing there, staring after him until he slowly turned his gaze to Blaine, who seemed to have been turning his head to look at Kurt, as well.

They stared at each other quietly, neither of them saying anything for a while.

Blaine looked almost tortured; an expression that Kurt had never actually seen on his handsome face or in his perfect hazel eyes… and he turned away from Kurt, walking back up his front walk slowly, pushing his hands into his jean pockets.

Kurt didn't really know what came over him, but he followed Blaine quickly, not wanting him to walk away before they could properly talk. Such an action could have been perceived as rude, but Kurt really couldn't have cared less as he turned onto the Anderson's front walk, seeing Blaine sitting on the porch steps. They locked eyes again, and Kurt took a deep breath, walking halfway up to Blaine before stopping, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. "… Pavarotti is beautiful," he breathed, and almost literally kicked himself for saying something so thoughtless and random.

The dark haired teenager blinked once, twice, three times before glancing up at his pet bird, who was flying towards one of the trees in the large front yard, "Yeah, Pav is really beautiful," he muttered in agreement, looking back at Kurt within a few moments. "… Kurt, what are you doing here? I hope you aren't here to pity me any more than you already have."

Kurt winced a little bit at the somewhat cold edge to Blaine's voice, though he mainly just sounded sad. He knew extremely well that he deserved that one… and took a deep breath of the brisk, cold air. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, running his ungloved fingers through his hair, forcing himself not to pull it in the frustration that was suddenly threatening to overtake him again. "I mean… I was cruel, this morning, and I didn't mean any of what I said."

"… Elaborate," Blaine said, the word simple and clear, ringing through the air and Kurt tried not to grimace again. He had hoped that Blaine wouldn't ask him to elaborate but, hey, he owed Blaine what much, didn't he?

Inhaling much more shakily than before, Kurt pushed his hands into his coat pockets and stared over at Blaine was steady as he could possibly manage. "I'm not used to people wanting to know me. I wasn't lying when I said no one really knows me… and that's because people really don't know me. Not even my best friends Rachel and Mercedes know who I am underneath my bitchy, dramatic exterior. Not even my family really knows what goes on in my head when I'm not forcing myself to do things in order to have distractions. No one ever even claims to know who I am underneath it all… not to my face, anyways.

"You suddenly just… professed that you probably know me more than I think you do and the thought freaked me out a little bit," Kurt didn't want to say it scared him, "so I reacted the only way I knew how: I got irrationally angry and lashed out on you when you didn't deserve it. I wasn't just talking to you because I pitied you… I actually do find you extremely interesting. I don't really pity people, anyways. So… I'm sorry, Blaine, that I said those things to you, because I do, in a way, value your friendship or whatever this is between us."

Kurt figured that mentioning that he had this weird trust in Blaine that he didn't really acknowledge at all would just be weird, so he just stood there, his hands pushed into his coat pockets, continuing to find himself staring into those hazel eyes. After a solid minute or so of just intense staring, Blaine nodded and scooted over on the step that he was sitting on, and Kurt took that as an invitation to sit down, of which he accepted with a nod of his own before walking over and sitting down next to Blaine.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, watching Pavarotti fly around the yard from branch to branch. Blaine suddenly stood up and turned towards the house, and Kurt only glanced over his shoulder once, seeing the shorter teenager walking through his front door. Kurt paid no mind to the fact, and turned back forwards, knowing that Blaine wouldn't just leave him out there. If it were anyone else, then Kurt definitely would have thought they were just leaving him, but he didn't at that moment, for some reason. It probably had something to do with the fact that Blaine's bird was still flying around, though.

Another several minutes passed, before Blaine was sitting down next to him again, though this time he was handing Kurt a mug, which he accepted. Kurt didn't even have to look down to know that it was a mug of hot chocolate, due to the smell that hit his nose, and he looked over at Blaine, who was sipping his own mug and staring out at his front yard as he had been earlier. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The silence between them wasn't awkward or tense, and Kurt was glad for that as he took a short drink of his hot drink, his eyes following the yellow bird as it flew upwards, arching and perching himself high on one of the trees in the front yard. "Don't birds hate the cold?" he found himself asking, keeping his eyes on Pavarotti, which wasn't hard since he was yellow and everything.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Blaine nodded a little bit, holding his mug snuggly between his hands, "Yes. Birds normally have a rather large dislike for the cold… Pavarotti doesn't, though, for some reason. Plus, I don't like keeping him in his cage for too long, and he doesn't like being kept in for too long. I like allowing him to stretch out his wings and fly a little bit, preferably outside since there's not nearly enough room for him to fly around in my house."

Kurt nodded a little bit, looking back up at Pavarotti, who was simply flying in the air once again, "… Aren't you ever afraid that he's going to fly away some day and never come back?"

"No." Blaine answered so easily, and calmly, causing Kurt to turn his attention and focus it completely on his companion, and eyebrow raised curiously as he did so. "I know that Pavarotti can fly away and never come back… but I'm not afraid that he's going to do so. If he ever does, I'll let him go, because I don't want to keep him if he doesn't want to stay. I'll be sad if he leaves, but I don't want to keep him caged here."

For a few moments, Kurt continued to stare over at Blaine while Blaine stared at Pavarotti… until he slowly turned to look at the brunet as well. "How are you so… unlike everyone else in the world? It's like you're detached from everything else but in the best way possible."

A hint of a smile flitted across Blaine's face briefly, and he shrugged on shoulder, leaning towards Kurt and bumping their shoulders together gently, "I know someone who influences how I behave now. Maybe I'll tell you about that person some day, Kurt. We'll see what happens." A softer expression crossed his face, and Pavarotti flew back over to them, landing on Blaine's shoulder.

Kurt watched as Blaine stood up, taking the small warbler into his hands gently, murmuring incoherently to him as he walked over to the cage that was open off to the side of the porch, setting Pavarotti back inside of it. He smiled just a little bit when he noticed that Blaine kept the cage door open when he returned to the step, sitting back down next to Kurt.


End file.
